


So Tell Me, Mrs. Rita

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Drama, Episode: s17e12 A Misunderstanding, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:57:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5807077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know what?  I am not a piece of shit, Rafael.  I do have feelings and, shock and awe, some of my clients do too.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Tell Me, Mrs. Rita

**Author's Note:**

> The song title comes from the Gin Blossoms song, Mrs. Rita. After watching the episode, this was the only story I wanted to write.

“Hey.”

“Seriously?” Rafael stopped midstride into his office. He backed up some and looked back into the hallway. “Are you serious?”

“I sent Carmen home.” She said. “You work her too hard you know. She’s young, pretty, she deserves some down time.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I brought you a present.” She held up the bottle of Glenfiddich. “It’s for a job well done. You made a real case out of this shit stain of a situation. Not a lot of lawyers could've done that. I know not many ADAs could. You deserve a drink.”

“I planned on having one.” He closed the door and put his briefcase down.

“Well have one with me.”

“You have to forgive my skepticism.” He took off his jacket and threw it onto the couch. “Also, get your lovely shoes off my desk.”

“Oh c'mon Rafael.” Rita Calhoun put her feet on the floor and stood. “At the end of the day aren’t we all the same, trying to get justice for people who might not otherwise receive it? If you prick me, do I not bleed?”

“I've thought about you being pricked before.” Just a little twitch a smile nearly betrayed him.

“You dirty son of a bitch.” She gave him the full wattage grin. “You know I rarely fuck lawyers. More importantly, I don’t fuck friends. God, does it get ever complicated. Where do you keep your tumblers?”

Sighing, Rafael walked over to the credenza. The truth was he could always use a good glass of scotch. The truth also was that no one won this afternoon. Two families were hurting and two kids might be beyond repair. He had a job to do and he did it pretty well considering but this wasn’t the kind of win that warranted a victory lap.

“I never drink at my desk.” He walked over to the couch, where he'd been enjoying pumpkin bread and tea earlier. It seemed like such a simpler time.

Rita walked over and sat down on the couch beside him. She put the bottle on the table, kicked off her high heels, and let out a hell of a sigh.

“I am exhausted.” She said.

Rafael looked at her. She'd changed from what she was wearing in the courtroom earlier, looked comfortable in a pair of black dress slacks and a light blue cashmere sweater. Her hair was pulled up in a bun, not messy as Rita was never messy. Her makeup was minimal; this might be the most relaxed Rafael had ever seen her. No, impossible, Rita Calhoun and relaxed weren't ever used in the same sentence.

“I'm surprised you're not with Laura and Andrew tonight.” Rafael poured two healthy glasses of scotch.

“Are you kidding me? I would rather wander into traffic if you want me to be honest. I would do anything for Laura, we've been friends for years and Abby is my godchild. I couldn’t do it tonight. I believed in this case and I'm not going to shed any tears over Chris Roberts’ fate. That doesn’t mean I want to wade in that cesspool for another minute.”

“You'll be back in your office in the morning. That’s a pretty big cesspool.”

“You know what? I am not a piece of shit, Rafael. I do have feelings and, shock and awe, some of my clients do too. Everyone deserves a fair trial. The justice system, such as it is, always needs to be challenged and questioned. I'm not heartless even if the people I defend sometimes are. I'm not going to do the impassioned lady lawyer speech, OK? I came here for a drink.” She took down a quarter of the glass.

“I didn’t even know you liked scotch.” Rafael changed the subject. It was obvious that Rita needed a break tonight. Didn’t they all? And while he loved sparring with her, there were few adversaries more worthy of his time, he didn’t intend to kick her while she was down. “If memory serves you had a fondness for Grey Goose martinis with three olives.”

“You have a long memory.” She leaned her head back on the couch and closed her eyes.

“It’s both a blessing and a curse.”

“I'm sure. Hey, is Benson still mad at you about the cop grand jury thing?” she glanced at him. “That woman can hold a grudge longer than my Jewish mother and no one holds grudges longer than Jewish mothers. I defended her life and I'm going to have to take flack at our every encounter for the rest of my life.”

“She's slowly getting over it.” Rafael replied, sipping his scotch. “The grand jury thing, not the serial murderer thing. She trusted Rudnick; it cut her deep. She associates the feeling with you now.”

“And what feeling does she associate with you, Counselor?” 

“I thought this was a drink between colleagues. You have to give me ample warning if I need to prepare for a cross examination.”

“Just be careful, OK? Men in her life tend to fall off the face of the earth. Maybe that ends up being the best for all parties, how do I know?” Rita shrugged. “But the world is better with you in it, Barba.”

“I have to concur, even though there are times I want to strangle you.”

“And here you didn’t even know that I liked it rough.”

He laughed some. Rita was tired tonight, she was letting her guard down just a little bit. He'd known her for a long time…she was a legend amongst New York City ADAs. Rita did her time, had a 92% conviction rate at trial, and moved on with her life. 

She trained some wonderful lawyers in many hallowed halls. Her career now was enviable amongst her brethren. Rita Calhoun was the epitome of making it. Rafael wondered all she sacrificed to do so. Then he wondered if he would be thinking the same thing if she were a man.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked. She'd seen that look in Rafael’s green eyes before, slightly out of focus but clearly thinking. He wasn’t dissociating, as Rita knew some people to do. Rafael Barba was always thinking.

“Honestly…lobster.”

“You eat a lot.”

“Hey!”

“I'm not…” Rita laughed. “I wasn’t saying that to be mean, I was making an observation. Food isn't a good replacement for sex or anything else.”

“That’s an insult to food, Rita. Food is a beautiful thing unto itself. Food can be comforting and lovely and spiritual…food can be an experience like no other.”

“You're not kidding.”

“I don’t kid about food.” Rafael said. “I'm Cuban. You're Jewish, you should know what I'm talking about.”

“I'm half-Jewish.” She clarified.

“Then you should know half of what I'm talking about.”

“Yeah.” Rita poured more scotch in her glass. “I do. We should go and get some lobster and talk about anything but work.”

“Are you caught up on _Downton Abbey_?” he asked.

“Is the pope Catholic?”

“Have you seen _Hamilton_ yet?”

“Three times…completely life-changing experience.”

“If Chandler Bing and Matt Albie got into a fight for your affections, whose side would you been on?”

“Oh dear God,” Rita rolled her eyes. “If I ever date men like that again, I would want someone to put me out of my misery. Oh fuck it, Chandler all the way.”

“Let's eat.”

Rafael stood and finished his scotch. He would leave this bottle in his office. A drink in the evenings was usually how he ended his work day, whether it was good or bad. He definitely wouldn’t mind having more good ones. He put his suit jacket back on as he walked with the bottle back over to the credenza. It was the DA’s office, most people expected to see alcohol in offices when they walked in. 

“Do you really think my shoes are lovely?” Rita asked as she slipped back into her high heels. 

She couldn’t wait to get home later and strip off everything. She'd put her hair in one long plait, wear flannel pajamas, make some popcorn, and either watch reruns of Charlie’s Angels or a movie from her Pam Grier box set. Nothing made her feel better after long days than some quality time with Kate Jackson or Pam Grier. Well one thing, one person, did but she hadn’t called him in a few months. It wasn’t pride per se but Rita hated that she longed for someone. That feeling had gotten her into trouble a few times in her life. She was too old for that shit.

“What are you thinking about?” Rafael asked as he helped her into her coat. He reached up to turn off the light as they walked out of the office.

“I don’t know if I always consider myself a lucky girl Barba, but I might just get to spend time with two interesting men tonight and that’s a rare feat. Men are hardly ever interesting.”

“Who could be more interesting than me?” he pressed the down button on the elevator. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Rafael was definitely curious. Rita had been in a long term relationship with Robert Hoffman for six or seven years. He was down in DC, working with the Senate Judiciary Committee. Both had excellent job security and didn’t want to move from where they were. It was never going to work out so they let go. Rafael actually heard that through the grapevine. Rita never said a word about it but it was pretty much common knowledge now that she and Bobby were no longer together.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” He let her walk into the elevator first and then followed.

“No judgments?” she asked.

“Absolutely not.” Rafael shook his head. “We get to say whatever we want tonight, enjoy each other’s company…and in the morning it’s just another day.”

It’s a tempting offer.”

“Take it. I'm in the mood to talk if you are. And you're right, let's leave the work in these hallowed halls for tonight and just go out as Rafael and Rita.”

“Rita can paint the town red when she wants to.”

“Good,” Rafael smiled as they got off the elevator, signed out, and made their way to the exit. “Because Rafael needs to let loose a little more in his nonexistent personal life.”

“That’s what we’re going to drink to first; nonexistent personal lives. Soon may they prosper and grow.”

“Hear, hear.”

Rita stepped out on the curb and hailed a cab. Surely they were going to Oceania. It had the best seafood in the city. Sometimes it was hard to get seated, the dinner crowd could be thick and reservations were long in waiting but Rita knew someone. They wouldn’t have to wait too long.

Climbing into the cab, Rafael’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the text message. How was he going to do this without Rita knowing exactly what he was doing? Had this been a good idea? They had once been colleagues, maybe even friends, but that was a long while ago. Sitting this close in a cab holding a cell phone it would hard to keep his personal life, nonexistent or not, off limits.

‘ _Hey, are you around? I thought maybe you’d want to have a drink and talk a little_.’ –Liv

‘ _I'm meeting with an old acquaintance. Can text you when I'm through if you're still in the mood_.’ –Rafael 

He quickly typed the reply, hit send, and put the phone back in his pocket.

“Olivia?” she asked after giving the driver directions.

“No.” he said in a tone that meant yes. It absolutely meant yes. Rafael had one chance to nail it and he screwed up.

“Just don’t disappear on me, Barba.” Rita said after rolling her eyes. “The list of men I'd ever want to have pity dinner with in this town is already horrendously small.”

***


End file.
